Spy-money to John Trott her footman, and Mrs. Sarah Wheedle her companion. A new Conningsmark blade to fight Ned Courtall. To Zelinda's woman (Mrs. Abigal) an Indian fan, a dozen pair of white kid gloves, a piece of Flanders lace, and fifteen guineas in dry money. Secret service money to Betty at the ring. No. 98. FRIDAY, JULY 3. In sese redit VIRG. 1 THE first who undertook to instruct the world in single papers, was Isaac Bickerstaffe of famous memory. A man nearly related to the family of the Ironsides. We have often smoked a pipe together, for I was so much in his books, that at his decease he left me a silver standish, a pair of spectacles, and the lamp by which he used to write his lucubrations. The venerable Isaac was succeeded by a gentleman of the same family, very memorable for the shortness of his face and of his speeches. This ingenious author published his thoughts, and held his tongue, with great applause, for two years together. I Nestor Ironside have now for some time undertaken to fill the place of these my two renowned kinsmen and predecessors. For it is observed of every branch of our family, that we have all of us a wonderful inclination to give good advice, though it is 1 V. Introductory remarks to the Tatler. -G. 2 The Spectator.-G. remarked of some of us, that we are apt on this occasion rather to give than take. However it be, I cannot but observe with some secret pride, that this way of writing diurnal papers has not succeeded for any space of time in the hands of any persons who are not of our line. I believe I speak within compass, when I affirm that above a hundred different authors have endeavoured after our familyway of writing: some of which have been writers in other kinds of the greatest eminence in the kingdom; but I do not know how it has happened, they have none of them hit upon the art. Their projects have always dropt after a few unsuccessful essays. It puts me in mind of a story which was lately told me by a pleasant friend of mine, who has a very fine hand on the violin. His maid servant seeing his instrument lying upon the table, and being sensible there was music in it, if she knew how to fetch it out, drew the bow over every part of the strings, and at last told Сс a Some of us. Humorously glancing at the quickness, with which himself and his friend Steele, had resented the advice as one may say, of the Examiner. b This, the reader sees, is in the old style of-quasitam meritis sume superbiam: but the boast is so true, that it stands uncontradicted to our days; when the list of competitors, here given in, has been prodigiously increased, and is still increasing; and yet, this way of writing is as much the family-secret as ever. But how should it be otherwise? He, who invents a species of polite composition, must needs be inimitable, unless he have the disadvantage of living in a barbarous age, or unless his rivals be very much his superiors in ability; neither of which exceptions can be pleaded in the present case. For, otherwise, the very consideration of originality decides the question in favour of the inventor; of whom, besides, it may be presumed, that he had a genius singularly turned to the cultivation of what he first conceived. This modern story is, in fact, the old Lesbian fable of Lucian, concerning the lyre of Orpheus; but finely varied and improved.-Mr. Addison, I have observed from many passages in his works, was a great reader and admirer of Lucian; and very naturally so: because, of all the an cients, he is the only one that had any considerable tincture of that elegant humour which our countryman so highly relished, and so perfectly possessed. In other respects, the writings of that ingenious libertine m st have been peculiarly offensive to our author, and are, indeed, the very e verse of his own. her master she had tried the fiddle all over, but could not for her heart find whereabout the tune lay. But though the whole burden of such a paper is only fit to rest on the shoulders of a Bickerstaffe or an Ironside; there are several who can acquit themselves of a single day's labour in it with suitable abilities. These are gentlemen whom I have often invited to this trial of wit, and who have several of them acquitted themselves to my private emolument, as well as to their own reputation. My paper among the republic of letters is the Ulysses his bow, in which every man of wit or learning may try his strength. One who does not care to write a book without being sure of his abilities, may see by this means if his parts and talents are to the public taste. This I take to be of great advantage to men of the best sense, who are always diffident of their private judgment, till it receives a sanction from the public. Provoco ad populum, I appeal to the people, was the usual saying of a very excellent dramatic poet, when he had any disputes with particular persons about the justness and regularity of his productions. It is but a melan choly comfort for an author to be satisfied that he has written up to the rules of art, when he finds he has no admirers in the world besides himself. Common modesty should, on this occasion, make a man suspect his own judgment, and that he misapplies the rules of his art, when he finds himself singular in the applause which he bestows upon his own writings. શ b The public is always even with an author who has not a just 'Ulysses his bow."-See what Dr. Wallis has said against this use of his.-De Adjectivis, c. 5. b Suspect his own judgment, and that he misapplies the rules. This way of making a substantive, and a whole sentence, depend on the same verb, is not accurate, because it does violence to the mind, in turning the attention suddenly two different ways. He might have said-" suspect his own judgment, and conclude that he misapplies,”—or, what I think better & suspect his judgment, and the application of his own rules.” deference for them. The contempt is reciprocal. every one, said an old cynic, who laughs at me. I laugh at Do you so? replied the philosopher; then let me tell you, you live the mer riest life of any man in Athens. It is not, therefore, the least use of this my paper, that it gives a timorous writer, and such is every good one, an opportunity of putting his abilities to the proof, and of sounding the public before he launches into it. For this reason I look upon my paper as a kind of nursery for authors, and question not but some, who have made a good figure here will hereafter flourish under their own names in more long and elaborate works. After having thus far enlarged upon this particular, I have one favour to beg of the candid and courteous reader, that when he meets with any thing in this paper which may appear a little dull or heavy,* (though I hope this will not be often) he will believe it is the work of some other person, and not of Nestor Ironside. I have, I know not how, been drawn into tattle of myself, more majorum, almost the length of a whole Guardian. I shall, therefore, fill up the remaining part of it with what still relates to my own person, and my correspondents. Now I would have them all know, that on the twentieth instant it is my intention to erect a lion's head in imitation of those I have described in Venice, through which all the private intelligence of that commonwealth is said to pass. This head is to open a most wide and voracious mouth, which shall take in such letters and papers as are conveyed to me by my correspondents, it being my resolution to have a particular regard to all such matters as come to my hands through the mouth of the lion. There will be under it a box, of Pleasantly said; but with a secret reference, I make no doubt, tc certain papers in this collection by his coadjutor, though bearing the name of Nestor Ironside. 1 which the key will be in my own custody, to receive such papers as are dropped into it. Whatever the lion swallows I shall digest for the use of the public. This head requires some time to finish, the workman being resolved to give it several masterly touches, and to represent it as ravenous as possible. It will be set up in Button's coffee-house in Covent-garden, who is directed to shew the way to the lion's-head, and to instruct any young author how to convey his works into the mouth of it with safety and secrecy.* THERE is no virtue so truly great and godlike as justice. Most of the other virtues are the virtues of created beings, or aŋ 'This head was preserved at the Shakspere Tavern till Garden; when the owner failing, it was sold for 177. 10s. two detached lines of Martial: Servantur magnis isti cervicibus ungues; 1804, in Covent Under it were a This whole paper is excellent. But the project of the lion, so finely introduced by No. 71, is above all to be admired. This highly humorous idea came very seasonably to the relief of Nestor Ironside, who was almost, as we may say, at his wit's end, when his friend started this new object for him. Lady Lizard and her tea-table was grown a stale joke; and if the lion had not roared in the nick of time, the public was in imminent danger of falling asleep; and then the Guardian had shared the fate of so many other projects, which are said to have dropped after a few unsuccessful essays. -The reader will own the obligation he has to the lion when he feels, as he goes along, how much the humour of this paper, henceforth, depends upon him. |